by Angela Kay
But he had a nagging feeling this wasn’t the end.
He thought about Shaun and his wife, how he chose his career over the woman he loved.
Aidan couldn’t help but wonder, would he do the same thing?
Or would he choose Cheyenne?
Aidan closed his eyes in hopes of sleep allowing his concerns to fall away.
As usual, The Carnations Killer victims occupied his dreams and this time, he heard Cheyenne’s pained voice in the distance.
45
THE NEXT MORNING, Aidan walked into the office and sat at his desk. He didn’t immediately log into the database as was his normal habit. He sat in his chair, his head resting in his hands.
“Everything okay?” Shaun asked.
Aidan looked at him with a sigh. “Yeah, I’m great.”
He scoffed, looking Aidan over. “You look great. Bloodshot eyes, you didn’t shave this morning. And I saw you trying not to hobble on your leg.”
“So my knee’s bothering me. It’s not like we’re going to be able to go on a chase anyway. What does it matter?”
Shaun’s eyebrow lifted.
“Sorry,” Aidan grumbled. “Cheyenne and I had a disagreement after you left.”
“Because you got hurt?” he asked.
Aidan shook his head. “Because I don’t want to worry her about my nightmares and she knows I’ve been waking up in the middle of the night to stare at dead women’s photos.”
“You should tell her,” Shaun insisted. “It might not make anything better, but at least she’ll see why you’re affected by all of this.”
“No offense, Shaun,” Aidan snapped, “but you don’t know the half of it. And I won’t be taking relationship advice from a divorced man who chose his career over his family.”
Shaun frowned, but instead of replying to the insult, he said he had work to do.
As he walked away, Aidan's landline rang.
“Yeah, O’Reilly,” he said dryly.
“Good morning,” Jackson from the lab chirped. “I wanted to confirm with you that the blood on the tarp was positive for Maya Gibson’s and Jane Ridgeway’s blood. The fingerprints you guys lifted belonged to the victims as well.”
“That all?”
“Yeah, sorry I don't have more, man.”
“All right, thanks.”
Aidan replaced the phone on the hook and released a curse. An agent passing by glanced his way. When he locked eyes with Aidan, he scampered away.
Aidan pushed his chair back and hobbled to where Shaun kept himself focused on the computer screen.
“Hey,” he said.
Shaun looked up.
“Look, man,” Aidan began. He wasn’t sure of what to say. Thankfully, Shaun waved his beefy hand as if he was wiping off a clean slate.
“Already forgotten. We’re cool.”
Leaning against his desk, Aidan scoffed. “You know, I’d like you a whole lot better if you’d lose your temper every once in a while.”
Shaun shouted out a curse, slapped a large hand against his desk, then shouted, “I didn’t get my muffin this morning!”
An intern walking toward them froze, eyes wide. She held a slip of paper in her hand, unsure of whether to approach.
Aidan smiled at her. “He loves his muffins.”
She giggled and handed Shaun the paper and stepped away. Slipping it in one of his boxes, he rose from his chair.
“Speaking of which,” he said, stretching his limbs, “I’m going to go grab that muffin. Wanna come with?”
“Sure.”
As they walked, Aidan relayed what Jackson said.
“So, he must use gloves,” Shaun muttered. “This guy doesn’t miss a step.”
“Told you,” Aidan replied. “He’s thorough. Plans things before he even does them. He knows the process.”
As they took the elevator to the cafeteria, they discussed the suspects: Jordan Blake, who seemed to disappear into thin air although it was obvious he was still under suspicion, and his uncle, whose house the offender used and his sudden unwillingness to help locate his nephew.
Aidan couldn't help but think they were missing some vital piece of information.
After reviewing countless numbers of files, Aidan and Shaun agreed to call it a night. However, Aidan didn’t go straight home. Instead, he went to the boxing gym Shaun took him to a while back.
If it helped him feel better that first time, he figured it might do the trick now.
They had come so close to catching the killer. He fought him, but he still managed to slip by undetected. He had a lot of pent-up resentment rising in him as the minutes ticked by, and he wanted to unleash as much as possible. He had already taken it out on Shaun once and was afraid he was building toward taking it out on Cheyenne, and that was one thing he couldn’t allow.
Aidan found an empty punching bag and began knocking it around.
The noise of the gym soon drowned out with each punch, and his bare knuckles grew sore.
But he felt better.
That was the important thing.
Shaun was right about the gym.
He made a mental note to thank him later. But for now, Aidan decided to go home, put his knuckles on ice. As he left the gym, he decided he’d buy a pair of boxing gloves the next day. He could see himself as being a regular at the gym.
46
WHEN HE SAW it was finally safe to return to the house, he went around the back to grab a shovel from the shed. He didn’t need to break inside. That wasn’t where he hid what he wanted.
He jammed the shovel into the ground by the back pond and began to lift the dirt, little by little.
He whistled as he did.
He may have lost his point of operation, but he was close to finding a new one. It didn’t matter one way or another. The police hadn’t seen him. He’d even spoken to Agent O’Reilly once at the grocery store when he was shopping with his girlfriend.
If he had an inkling of an idea, he was sure he’d be in jail now instead of digging through the dirt.
But, no.
He was here, and he was free.
Free to do what he wanted.
He’d already chosen his next target. She was a teller at a bank. He’d gone to her in the pretense of considering opening a savings account. During their conversation, he found out she liked to write—he did too. He urged her to submit her romance tales, but she had smiled shyly and said she wasn't good enough. He reminded her that she wouldn't ever know until she tried. Her eyes shined as though he’d given her the courage to do just that.
It was a shame she wasn't going to have a lot of opportunities to do her writing. He considered letting her slide since he held a soft spot for writers. But he decided against it.
Halfway through the ground, his shovel hit the top of a what he was searching for.
It wouldn’t be long now.
A few more dirt tosses aside, he revealed the brown album. Brushing off the soil, he smiled. A few weeks ago, he had decided to give it to O’Reilly as part of the surprise he had in store. He thought the agent might appreciate a gift from the heart. But first, he needed to duplicate it. He didn’t want to give him the original copy.
As he refilled the hole, his cell phone began to ring.
“Hello?”
“Hey, honey.” It was his wife. “Are you stopping at home anytime soon?”
“I can, sure.”
“I need a few things from the store if you don't mind going for me. I can text you the list.”
“Of course, babe,” he replied.
“What are you doing? You sound out of breath.”
“I’m just working out a sweat. I've got to look my best if I'm going to keep you, right?”
Her laughter sounded self-conscious. He pictured her blushing. “Oh, I didn’t intend on bothering you, babe.”
He finished filling the hole and returned the shovel to the shed.
“You never bother me,” he told his wife. “So don’t ever think t
hat. You know, I don’t have a lot left to do at work. Why don’t you send Jamie to a friend’s house and we can have a little champagne, create bit of romance...”
“Really?”
“I want to show you how much I really love you, baby.”
“Then hurry home.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Now at his car, he tossed the album in the trunk, burying it under the early Christmas gifts he and his wife bought.
He climbed in as the text came with the grocery list. He also decided to buy his lovely wife a bouquet of red roses—her favorite.
47
A SOUND IN Aidan's dreams jarred him awake. For the first time, he couldn’t remember the specifics of what he dreamt, and he was glad. Considering his heart drummed against his chest as though he'd run five miles at top speed, he didn’t want to remember.
Aidan sat upright in his bed and swung his feet over the edge.
It had been a few weeks since their close encounter with The Carnations Killer, and they hadn’t found enough helpful leads to catch up with the offender. It was wearing and tearing him down. Aidan could feel it, and he could see in Cheyenne’s eyes that she was still troubled by it—although she stopped bringing it up, which worried him. Cheyenne not saying whatever was on her mind was never a good thing.
The crime scene unit confirmed Thomas Blake’s house was used as the offender's home base. Luminol revealed the stained tarp held both Maya Gibson’s and Jane Ridgeway’s blood, as did the tire iron laying on the dresser.
They were assuming the duct tape was used to cover the victims’ mouths. The fishing wires were consistent with the gashes around their necks, arms, and ankles.
One of the crime scene units found a broken fingernail in the corner of the cellar. They were able to confirm it came from Maya—it appeared that she may have been attempting to dig her way out of the basement.
The cellar didn’t have noticeable fingerprints other than the victims, so they weren’t sure whether or not Jordan had ever been there.
However, Aidan realized even if his prints were there, it wouldn’t have been surprising, considering his uncle owned the house. Any lawyer would claim it as inconclusive evidence.
And they’d be right.
When they finally caught up with the reporter, they learned Jordan had taken a vacation to New York with a couple of girls, so there was no way he would have been on the premises at the same time as the FBI.
They were back to square zero once, and the days were creeping along with no word from the offender.
Maybe his close encounter with them had scared him off so he decided to go on his usual sabbatical.
Did they really lose him again?
Aidan hoped not.
He'd begun to find himself staying at work late. Cheyenne seemed okay with the late hours. At first, Aidan decided it was probable that she preferred he spent his time obsessing at a distance.
When they were together, however, he got the feeling the tension between him and Cheyenne was growing thicker and thicker.
He wasn’t entirely convinced the offender was gone for good. So how could he stop searching for him?
After all, he claimed to have a surprise for Aidan.
Aidan figured that unless he missed it, the offender hadn’t done anything remotely like a surprise.
And now, Aidan rested his back against the headboard after having another series of nightmares.
His throat parched, he headed for the kitchen to get himself a glass of water. He closed his eyes as the iced liquid wet his throat.
When Aidan reopened them, an image flashed in front of his eyes.
Aidan gasped and jumped backward, knocking into the kitchen chair. He fell back, his glass of water falling out of his hands, almost slow motion, to the tiles. Water and glass spewed across the floor. His head snapped back, and he let out a sharp cry.
White circles swam in front of his eyes as he tried to refocus. Sharp pain throbbed in his head as he rubbed his temples.
Aidan heard Cheyenne’s frantic cries from the bedroom and footsteps thumping down the stairs.
“Aidan!”
She flew into the kitchen wild-eyed. Seeing him on the floor, she rushed to his side.
“Are you okay? What happened? Are you hurt? Do I need to call an ambulance?”
Her constant chattering was making Aidan's head pound more. She helped him sit up and then took his head in her hands.
“Talk to me!”
“I’m fine,” Aidan sputtered. He shook his head. “I don’t know what happened. I saw...I thought...” Aidan heard his voice tremble, and he couldn’t shake the awful image he'd just witnessed out of his mind.
Cheyenne put his head against her chest.
“I’m fine, honey,” he assured her, although he didn’t sound convincing even to his ears.
Aidan heard her soft whimper as she said a quiet prayer. He couldn’t understand what she was saying, but he held her tighter. He didn’t want to let go.
He blinked, trying to erase images of the blank faces of Maya and Jane leaping in front of him. Their skin pale gray, their eyes darkened.
Their movements were so sudden, he'd fallen backward, trying to get away from their angry spirits which seemed to rush into his soul.
48
AIDAN WOKE AGAIN with the sun shining through the window.
He turned his head to see Cheyenne, lying on her side, facing him. Her breathing was soft, and she seemed to be studying him. For a few minutes, they looked into each other’s eyes. Hers were so mesmerizing, the sea of blue bearing deep in him.
Aidan reached over to stroke her cheek.
“I’m sorry I scared you last night,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. He cleared it and turned to stare at the ceiling.
Cheyenne propped her body, using her elbows.
“You scare me every day, Aidan. More and more.”
“I scare myself sometimes,” he admitted. “It’s just—”
She cut him short by putting her finger over his lips. “Don’t. No more excuses. No more of ‘this is my job.’ You need help. If you won’t talk to me, then talk to someone. Anyone.”
Aidan sat up in bed to rest against the headboard with a sigh. He reminded himself of what Shaun had suggested he do. He didn't want her worrying about him, but Shaun was right—her not knowing was worse.
“Do you really want to know?”
She raised her body and gave him her full attention with an affirming nod.
“Okay. Then I’ll tell you. Ten years ago,” Aidan started. He paused for a brief second. “My sister had a friend. She was beautiful, you know? Long blonde hair, a smile that would melt your heart. I was infatuated by her.”
Aidan looked at Cheyenne, who watched him with worry and wonder clouding her eyes.
“Candace had a boyfriend, so I never had a chance with her. But one night, she went to visit my sister because she and the boyfriend had a major argument. She wanted to talk to my Mairead. You know how girls get. Candace wanted her opinion on how to proceed. Should she break up with him, take a few days to herself, or go back and try to talk to him? In the end, she headed back. But when she left my sister's house, it was the last time anyone saw her until...”
“No,” Cheyenne whispered. Her voice was laced with tears.
“I got called to a crime scene.” Aidan looked at Cheyenne, saw her eyes filled with water. His voice became so low, he wasn’t even sure if he'd spoken them. “Candace was the third victim of The Carnations Killer. Everything was the same as the other girls prior. She wore a black dress, had a bouquet of white carnations. She was beaten so badly, I almost couldn't recognize her. The worst part was when I had to tell my sister.”
“I’m so sorry,” Cheyenne whispered. She put her head on Aidan’s shoulder and wrapped her arms around him.
“She was Mairead's best friend. They were as close as sisters. I swore to her I'd find the killer. Since then, when I see each woman this guy murdered, I see Candace.
Each face I saw was hers. It followed me everywhere.”
Aidan closed his eyes. He remembered the tearful admission Mairead had told him on the day of her wedding.
I wish Candace could have been here. I could use her support right now, Aidan. I'm so scared of this new life I'm going to have. She would have comforted me.
Aidan told Cheyenne about his dreams, about the reasons he couldn’t sleep. He told her how vivid, how real they seemed.
“And for four years, he’s left me notes. Ever since the Michigan murders, he started leaving me the notes. Just to make sure I was still searching for him. Playing his game.”
Cheyenne listened with intent, finally getting a glimpse of understanding of what he'd been living with over the years, particularly the last few months.
Aidan couldn’t decide whether he was better having told her everything, or worse.
“I have to find him, Cheyenne.” His voice went from soft to determined. He balled his hands into tight fists as he thought of all the women the offender killed. “I have to.”
Cheyenne remained silent for the longest time. Finally, she said, “Just don’t lose yourself to him, okay? Please. I can’t lose you to him.”
Aidan kept silent as the seconds ticked by.
“It’ll be okay,” Aidan promised. He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her tight. “As long as you’re here with me, everything will be okay. You’ve become my rock.”
He held her for a few minutes before pulling away and climbing out of the bed.
“I’m going to go on into work.”
Before he could turn to walk away, Cheyenne grabbed his wrist. She pulled herself up for a kiss and told him she loved him.
After telling her he did too, he went for a shower, trying to convince himself it was the right thing to do, telling Cheyenne everything.
49
WHEN SHAUN FIRST saw Aidan, he questioned his appearance. Aidan knew he had black circles around his bloodshot eyes. His hair was also half combed—he was too tired when getting ready to take care. Aidan admitted he couldn’t sleep. Because Shaun knew Aidan had insomnia as a rule, he didn’t question it further, and Aidan was thankful.
